


Little Wolf

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Daddy Kink, F/M, Female Bucky Barnes, Lactation Kink, Praise Kink, trash trash trash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-18 12:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7315264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Barnes never had a completed file, therefore no one knew where she ranked before Hydra made her into nothing. </p><p>But she was an omega through and through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Stevie, you can't keep doing this." Her voice is soft and soothing, pressing the sliver of raw meat to his eye before letting him hold it in place.

"I know, Buck." 

And his tone says that he's heard this a hundred times and he will in fact be doing it again.

Her stocking clad feet pad over the the linen closet, grabbing the pale azure rag she always did. She bustled around their shares apartment with an ease that brought a warmth to his face. 

"Y'know, I blame it on your ranking, but Stevie you aren't exactly as filled out as those meatheads." 

"Just say it, Bucky. I'm a runt."

Her crimson stained lips pull down in a sort of pout, watching him put a bony hand over the half of his face that wasn't covered in uncooked meat.

She sighs through her nose, and he can smell her heat coming soon. Her scent always shifting to more sweet, like the cotton candy at Coney Island. The smell of her calms him, even though what little alpha instinct that was in him wanted to scent her desperately. 

Her pale hand scrubs down the last plate, turning to him whilst grabbing the hand rag. 

"Look, I know you can't stand 'em. But at least don't say anything then because you can't keep-"

"Buck," his crystalline gaze is trained on the fabric of her blouse. 

Her cheeks flush an interesting shade of red at the sight of her now damp shirt. "Dammit, I-I'm sorry, Steve. I'll just go," she's unbuttoning the shirt with only slightly trembling fingers. 

"Does it hurt?" 

She's lifting her eyes to his with a look he's seen many a time, because this is a routine they've gone through more then he can count. 

Her scent grows stronger to the point where he's standing, purpled eye and all. His bony hands find the curve of her hips, his nose pressing to her scent gland in an affectionate fashion. She's shaking in his grip, head shifting so his tongue can lave over her bond gland. 

The breathy noise she makes stirs a warmth in his bones. She's shrugging off her blouse whilst he's leading her to the beat up, little sofa. Her wince when she unclasps her bra has him rumbling a soothing noise to calm her. 

"Buck, I-"

"Please, Stevie?"

And he can't deny her anything, his smooth lips bringing her nipple into his mouth. She gives a whimper when he starts to suck, his own responding hum making her shiver. 

He won't give her his knot, claiming she deserves better then him. But God, she wants it more then anything.

Her gentle fingers tug at his hair, the other hand trying to move to his slacks until he opens his nonswollen eye with a soft growl. 

She tastes so sweet and he finds when she's not in heat he misses it. The soft, supple body beneath his own while his tongue flicks her swollen nipple. 

This was his bliss, looking up at her now messy curls and parted plush lips. 

He switches breasts, a relieved hum leaving her when he does. She hisses softly when he scrapes his teeth over her carefully. He knows her more maternal instinct has kicked in when she takes to stroking through his hair in a petting motion.

"My pretty Stevie," the words leaves her on a sigh. 

His hips rut against the cradle of hers and he knows if he wear to merely ask she would present. And God only knows she deserves more then to present to a skinny little runt. Steve doesn't think he would be able to resist if she asked him to claim her either. 

When she's dry he sits up, tongue running along his lips at the pretty picture she makes. All sleepy and frazzled.

"Come on, Buck. Let's get you to bed, Doll." 

He's coaxing her up with a kiss to the bonding gland at the hallow of her throat.

"Mmm, lay with me?"

"Always."

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She looks so beautiful like this all spread out on the rough, army grade cotton wearing nothing, but a smile.

He's assessing her wounds back at the base after he's liberated the men. His smooth lips moving in a steady flurry of berating words like _goddammit, Buck_ and _you had to fight with the men_. 

And she knows it's only leaving him because he was scared for her. 

He swallows heavily when his too blue gaze finds the two damp spots on the itchy cotton of her shirt. They meet her matching gaze for a beat, and it isn't any time at all before he's ripping the fabric in two.

His nose nuzzling her bond gland before running his tongue over it in slow, calming licks. Calloused fingers fumbling with the clasp of her bra before it's off. 

He's encouraging her to lay back onto his cot, smooth lips locking over her dusky, swollen nipple. A string of little sounds and whimpers leaving her as he sucks,  nails digging into his shoulder.

Gentle fingers caressing his cheek while he sucks, like she's committing this new him to memory. His fingers are peeling off her baggy trousers, until she's bare beneath him. 

He pulls back to look at her, flushed and spread against dull, green sheets. And she's never looked more beautiful. 

"I want-"

"Alpha, please."

She breathes his title like a prayer, and soon he's growling and tearing off layer after layer. His flinty, azure gaze watches her move to present, but he halts her with a soft caress at her thigh.

"I want to be face to face when I knot you, doll." 

She shivers, spreading her legs wider and keening when he pauses stripping to run his fingers along her slick coated slit. Her back arching beautifully, making him remember his task.

He doesn't even get his pants off all the way before he's thrusting into her. Her too blue eyes widen, crimson stained lips parted wordless as she simply feels. He's taking no prisoners, fucking her just like he's always wanted. Steady, relentless pace making the bed roll back against the brickwork.

"God, Stevie please.. Please."

He's soothing her by licking her bonding gland, mouth watering at simply the thought of sinking his teeth into her.

No. Not here. At home... When he brings her home, when she's spread across his bed in their creaky little apartment. That's when he'll claim her as his officially.

However, she's still his even now.

Her whines increase in decibel and pitch, his fumbling fingers rubbing rough circles over where she's directed him. And she's looks like a goddess when she comes, thighs gripping his hips.

Her snarls, biting softly down onto her shoulder as he comes. His knot swelling inside of her, locking them together. He keeps coming in soft spurts, the sensation making her hum sweetly.

"I love you, Stevie."

"I love you too, Buck."

And it grates on him that that's the last and only time she ever got to hear him say it before she plummets into the snow-filled, void.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A heat? What do you mean a heat?"  
> The scrawny man is fumbling to secure his glasses on his face as he looks at the monitor.
> 
> "But she isn't supposed to feel anything."

Rumlow didn't exactly approve of the way they kept the asset contained, but it wasn't his job to do. She wasn't his toy soldier, and he knows very well that order only comes with pain. So he keeps his trap shut and does well to remember that.

Three scientists crowd around her now, checking vitals and heart rate. Brock sometimes wonders if one day her heart'll stop and she'll just keep going, forced to like some ghost. 

Her azure gaze is blank, dead even as it spears into the concrete walls. Metal platelets of her alarm hiss and whirr as she rolls her shoulders. The third scientist, a scrawny little balding man, walks over to the lab table and sits with a heavy sigh. The other two making quick work of the assets clothing, Brock can't see a damn thing. But one of the two lab rats is murmuring something grave.

"A heat? What do you mean a heat?" The scrawny, older man is fumbling to secure his glasses on his face as he looks at the monitor.

"But she isn't supposed to feel anything." One of them piped up, her whiskey gaze finding the older of them.

Brock's head tilts and he can see just a sliver of her between the three of them. Her usually petite breasts swollen, once blank gaze alive and seemingly worried. 

"We'll have to put her in containment. Let her wait it out." The older man's voice is soft, clumsily unhooking his spectacles off of his ears.

Brock is stepping forward, hand still resting on his belt. He can finally smell her now, sickeningly sweet almost. 

"Let me take care of her. Just put her in containment, call me when it gets bad and I'll give her a knot." 

The older scientist looks skeptical, but with the assets tendencies he figures that it's better then leaving her to hurt herself in the small, dull room that was containment.

She's escorted there without a stitch on, the guards around her all betas. Except for Brock who's trailing behind dutifully. She's coaxed into the room with the alpha following after her, he notices she's feels better when she's pressed to the wall.

"Sweetheart, you should let Daddy take care of you." His voice is soothingly dark, taking a seat on the small cot in the room while he encourages her closer with a little crook of his finger.

She moves mechanically, after all that was just an order. And that's all she was made for, orders. She straddles his lap, his nose nuzzles the bonding gland at her throat. And there's something there, age old and faint. But Rumlow is a good enough alpha to smell it, and it's musky and familiar. 

Who could it- _Rogers_.

"Captain, you sniveling mutt." It's a bitter growl as it leaves him, the little thing in his grasp flinching at the sound so close to her bond gland.

"Daddy'll take care of you, kitten." It's rough and reassuring, calloused hands guiding her to lay back on the cot. 

His lips find her nipple, suckling down the sweet cream of her with a heavy groan. For a soldier who shouldn't have an alignment, she's the sweetest omega he's ever tasted. The history books do her no justice.

Her flesh and bone fingers thread through his hair, encouraging him to stay right where he is. And he wouldn't dream of leaving. His own fingers unzipping his pants, stroking himself to the soft sounds of her moans.  

Rogers was a fool not to claim her and pump her full of pups. 

She can't give even one now, much less a litter. But far be it from Brock not to try to get her nice and swollen with his pups. He's tapping her thigh, letting her up to present. If he'd have known this was what she'd have been like, his history book would've been good material for his shower sessions. 

"That's it... Such a good, little omega." She lets out a soft keen when he thrusts in, his hand finding her breast and squeezing.

A roughened growl leaving him at the milk being wasted on the sheets. His hands are clenching her hips hard enough for bruises and the possessive side of him grabs harder still. His only objective now being to pump her full, she can come next time around. 

She clenches around him and he's fucking lost, thrusting deep into her. His release painting her walls as his knot locks them together. Fuck, he wants her pregnant. 

He maneuvers them so she's lying back on his lap, her head lolling onto his shoulder. His fingers stroking through her long, dark hair. 

Rumlow hears the beep that signals someone wants in, his gaze finding the thick glass viewing port he hadn't noticed in his haste to pump the asset full. 

"Come in. And don't startle her." It's possessive to say the least, the rest of the alphas on the strike team practically running each other over to get in.

Brock scoffs into the assets hair, all of them still pups practically. Well, to him anyway, two of them get to her breasts first. Some long forgotten maternal instinct kickin in because she's stroking her hand through their hair with a confused expression that's said she's done this before.

One even takes to licking softly at her clit, making her writhe in Brock's lap until he's locking his fingers in the runt's hair and throwing him back. Metal platelets hiss as she cranes her arm back and strokes through Brocks hair.

Gentle metal running along his cheek before moving back to his hair. He realizes she sensed his distress and is calming him, his lips running along the shell of her ear. Something soothing reminds him that she's allowing them to drink because she thinks they're her pups, not because she sees them as mates.

Meyers shoves Robinson away from her to get his own lips on her, she leans down scenting him tentatively. Her fingers running through his hair in a maternal motion, puffing her chest out so he can reach her all the better.

Brock realizes what a mother she would've been, with Rogers' little blonde pups suckling at her. She's purely running on autopilot now, Zola didn't count for this in his algorithm so her mind is dredging up the faint hint of James Barnes to know what to do. 

She hisses and he tenses, looking around to where she's gone dry. Both of the alphas at her breasts nipping to try and coax more out of her. Brock snarls protectively, all of them scrambling out and away. 

He shifts to lave his tongue over her bonding gland, soothing her distress. His knot loosens and he thrusts up to push deeper, a small breathy murmur leaving her plush lips.

Captain Rogers could eat it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's got her pinned between the car and his body, her arms above her head. Metal arm or no, nothing is stopping him once he caught her scent. 
> 
> "Bucky, it's me."

She's giving as good as she gets, side stepping every blow and countering it with one of her own. And Steve thinks that who ever the Winter Soldier is, she's one hell of an Alpha. 

It's not until she flips over him, thighs locked around his neck in a move he's seen Black Widow use. Except this woman is more precise, more experienced. She's leaning over him, the edges of her fingers locked around his jaw whilst she yanks upward. He can't help, but think that she really could decapitate him like this and then there's this smell. 

One that's _age old_ and _faint_. 

It has him using his weight to throw her against an abandoned car. Her legs loosening for a brief moment, calloused hands lifting her off of him to shove her against the car. And then she's trapped between him and metal, one of his hands clasped around her wrists. Nothing's stopping him now that he's caught it.

Bloodied and bruised he's leaning down to her bonding gland, the first scent sticking to her he realizes is Rumlow. So he's shifting to the scent gland at the other side of her neck, and there it is. It's buried under years of sterile smell, but they forget he's not super for nothing. 

Coney Island cotton candy.

He's leaning back with a furrowed brow, his bright gaze meeting her equally bright kohl lined one. His free hand gently gripping the face mask, gaze meeting crimson stained lips so familiar his heart aches. 

"Bucky..."

She's struggling futilely in his grip, snarling when it turns out fruitless. He can tell she's in a heat because the smell hits him, that and she looks ready to cry at this development. It's pure instinct when he shushes her softly, his nose nuzzling her bonding gland. He's lifting his jaw so she can do the same, she could bite him. But something in him says she won't, even now.

She doesn't, merely runs her nose along him. Confused gaze meeting his once she leans back and he realizes that she must find him familiar at least.

"Bucky, it's me."

"I... I don't know you."

It makes him ache when she speaks, his brow falling to lean on her shoulder. And when she tenses he's met with the familiar sound of guns cocking. He releases her,  hands raising in surrender. She's still leaning against the car, chest heaving with every heavy breath. He starts up toward her again, but he's met with the press of a gun to the back of his neck.

"Stay down, Rogers." 

It's Meyers by the sound of it. The Captain's azure gaze flicking up to see Rumlow easing toward Bucky. His gun drawn and his voice a gentle easing purr. 

She presses into him as soon as he has his arm around her waist, and Steve is snarling the whole Strike team lurching with him in a struggle to keep him down. 

He'll have Brock's head is all that keeps cycling through his thoughts, watching as the other alpha runs his tongue along her bonding gland in a soothing motion. He's whispering something in her ear and then she's running, booted feet hitting the ground heavily whilst her hair streaks behind her like a long dark ribbon.

"Come on, Rogers."

"You touch her again, I'll rip your throat out." Brock's responding laugh is dark, hands gripping Steve's bound ones and shoving him to his feet.

"That's a little dark even for you, Captain." 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's raining fire down around them and the only thing he can think about is how lovely she looks.

There's a bullet in his abdomen and a gash along his cheek, his right eye is swollen from a good swing with her metallic arm. And she's still gorgeous. 

"Bucky, it's me."

"I'm not your Bucky," her fist collides with his cheekbone. Her body straddling his against the cracked glass of the crashing helicarrier. 

She's stopped hitting him for a moment, crystalline gaze studying his face and even in his blurred vision he can tell she's upset and confused. His hand raises slowly, her whole body tensing until she realizes his intent. His hands runs up and down her back in a soothing motion. 

Her bruised knuckles meet his face again, and now he can smell her distress. Blow for blow is rained down on him until she can't see through her tears.

"You're just my mission."

"So finish it... Because I'm with you til the end of the line, doll."

It's later when he finally sees her again, after the fall into the water and the hospital trip. After Rumlow self destructed in front of hundreds. 

And she's never looked more beautiful.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She feels like heaven and she smells so sweet it makes him want to sink his teeth into her. And when she moans his name, it's bliss.

"Do you know me?"

"I read about you in a museum." 

Her voice is soft and gentled, hands fiddling nervously in a gesture he used to see her in often during their time. 

"That's a lie," his voice is firm, pretty blue gaze running the length of her before meeting hers once again.

In hindsight he should've known better then to do this when he's in a rut. But there really wasn't any other time to do it, not when the swat team will be here any moment.

She seems to pick up on the scent of his rut, stepping forward a dainty step or two. 

He's on her in an instant. Teeth scraping over her bonding gland in a teasing movement, gloved hands gripping her hips. She's whining softly, arms around his neck.  

"He touched you," it's nothing, but a hiss against her skin. His hands shoving her jeans down, spinning her to face the wall. 

"Steve..." It's a gentle moan, one that has the man behind her groan himself. 

He's not even bothering to take the uniform off, unzipping it and hissing once he's got himself in hand. His arm circled her waist and yanks, her body arching into his. Her jeans are pooled at her feet and she's kicking them off fully. She's rocking up on her toes when he finally thrusts in. 

The sensory memory of it all making them both breathless. He's trembling behind her, her hand moving back to grip the back of his neck. It's messy and it's rough, but it's something they both desperately need.

"Fuck, Bucky." She answers him with a little keen, panting as his smooth lips find her neck.

"You feel so good, doll. God, I missed you, baby girl." His voice is raw and dark, leaving her whimpering with every thrust. 

His rough gloved hand finding her breast and palming it, his groans so close to her ear it makes her clench around him. This is claiming, he doesn't even have to bond her for her to know that she's his. 

"Stevie," his childhood nickname leaving her pretty lips has him cursing. His thrusts jarring her once they grow rougher, she's so wet it's killing him. His fingers move to rub slick circles over her silky little clit. 

"Come on, Buck. Just for me, doll. You can do it, sweetheart." It's toe curling when she finally falls over the precipice, clenching around him and sending him over the edge. 

He thrusts deep and swells within her, locking them both together. He tells himself it's the serum when he keeps coming in spurts, pumping her full until it's running down his length. 

His nose nuzzles at her bond gland, licking over it until his scent is the only one sticking to her. Hips jerking into her, leaving her gasping as his knot locks deeper. 

He walks them backward until she's splayed on top of him on the  scratchy little cot she has. Her head leaning back to rest right under his collarbone and over his heart. His hands stroking over her belly in smooth swipes, his nose pressed to her hair.

"Stevie, I'm sorry I didn't-"

He cuts her off with a soft shushing noise, pressing a kiss into her hair. 

"It's okay, baby. I've got you now," she whimpers against him, his fingers moving to run through the long dark tresses that were spread across his chest. 

"We're going to get out of this, okay?" Her head turns and he's pressing soft kisses to her forehead. And for once in a long time, something is a guarantee.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She deserves better.

Tony's metal encased hand has her by the throat, her fingers clawing at his. It lasts for only a second before Steve is upon him, circular shield crashing down into his shoulder and making him lose his grip on her. 

The Captain circles and blocks her from Tony's view with his body. His shield up and at the ready, her delicate crystalline eyes just barely visible over her alpha's shoulder.

That's when Tony smells it, and he knows Steve does too by the moment of slack haze that befalls him before he hardens further.

She was going into an early heat.

The face mask retracts over Stark's features, showing his clenched jaw and angry eyes. For a brief moment he can see what she must've been like when she was young, sweet smelling and innocent. 

The suit hisses and whirrs as it retracts whilst Tony steps out of it. Steve's standing straighter, free arm moving back around her hip. 

It's a completely different affair now that she's in heat and two testy alphas are on her scent.

Steve steps back a bit, playing a pawn in this delicate little dance they're doing. Tony's matching him with each measures step forward, the poor little assassin behind the other looking so very small and lost.

"Easy. You may be a monster, but I'm not about to kill an omega in heat." His voice is a broken drawl, hands held up in surrender. 

Her too blue gaze is desperately searching Tony's once they come toe to toe, her alpha hovering behind them on edge.

Stark leans forward, nose brushing her scent gland carefully.  His arm catching her around the waist when she sways a little on her toes. 

When he moves her gaze is jumping from his to where she can just barely see Steve. It's desperate and terrified, the scent of her distress making both alphas wince. Tony's soothing it with a hesitantly lick to her bonding gland. 

This is the woman that killed his mother.

His nails dig into her hips, forcing her back into the wall. Teeth digging into her shoulder, her alpha moving with a hand rough in his hair. He's not stopping until he tastes blood, which is sweeter then usual. His hips pressing into hers, length already half hard simply at the taste. 

"Stark, back off."

"She tastes like cotton candy."

America's golden boy is swallowing hard, tugging again on Tony's hair until he's releasing her. His lips blood stained, sugary smelling like the wound on her shoulder. 

He seems to sense the intense distress he's caused her when she whines, it's like watching her flashbacks as she is. Self destruction becomes her, hands clawing over her skin and hair. Tearing at whatever she can get a grip on, too blue eyes glassy and unseeing. Steve's catching her and clutching, folding her into his chest with a harsh grip. Holding tight to her while she trembles and heaves whimpers. 

Tony's licking the blood off his lips, watching the scene unfold with a look conflicted. He'd like to see her hurt, but this. This isn't hurt, this is tortured. His calloused hand moves to the bit of her dark hair visible from within Steve's embrace.

And he pets her.

A simple stroke over her hair and then another, the action soon becoming a rhythm. She seems to still after awhile, whimpers dying out into soft whines. 

"I wanna go home, Stevie.. I wanna see Mama, Stevie.. I-I don't... Stevie please.." It's choked back and strained, leaning back in his grip to meet his gaze. The alpha's hands are cupping her cheeks, his forehead moving to rest against hers. 

"I know, doll. I'm gonna try my best, baby girl. Stevie's got you." His shushing seems to calm her, large tears snaking down her porcelain cheeks while her eyes stare unseeingly into the dirtied walls.

"I want... I want to help." Tony's voice is rough to his own ears, chocolate gaze turned to the floor.

"I want to help her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments give me life ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can't deny how pretty she is, or even how wonderful she looks with her Stevie.

Tony Stark could fucking kick himself because it was all very simple really. She wasn't herself when she was Hydra, she was a machine. Empty and wiped. 

That fact was about as simple as the moans she gave when Steve licked into her pretty mouth.

 His treatments were working, her memories coming back better and the less of the soldier she was. Each and every day she was a little more James Barnes and a little less Hydra's puppet.

And she called him _Anthony_. No one called him by his whole name, **ever**. But she was all forties sweetness and deep red lipstick, which was all too fucking delicious in it's own way. 

 He doesn't quite know how this started, somewhere between when she started smoothing on lipstick on her already sugar pink lips and when Tony supplied Steve the money to start doting on her. But it happened, and he knows that Steve knows this could never work. 

He knows it too... But it doesn't stop him. Tony's hands are laced through hers, instead of the usual counter top or wall beneath her fingertips. Her back bent so she's presenting beautifully, Steve thrusting into her from behind.

Dainty metal fingers clench around the mechanic's, her sweat slicked brow resting on his collarbones. Her soft pants brushing his bare chest, his lips pressed to her hair. Her scent and Steve's own sending him into a rut, his body shifting closer to hers. His work roughened fingers gripping her hair and tugging until her head tips back, goatee tickling her skin as he sucks a mark onto her throat.

The Captain's hand snaking around her hips to rub that one perfect little spot, and she trembles under Tony's mouth. Steve curses heavily against her skin, pressing wet kisses along her spine. And the billionaire knows how long it takes Steve's knot to loose it's swell. 

He may have taken a few, obscene liberties to see how they were doing. Stumbling into their security feed right as Steve pressed her to the wall, Tony found his hand was a poor substitute to this.

"You okay, baby girl?" Tony's voice is soft, leaning back to meet her pretty azure gaze. 

She blinks lazily, making this odd charmed warmth appear in his chest when she smiles at him. 

"Never better, my darling." 

Steve's humming at the sound of her voice, nuzzling the damp skin between her shoulder blades. His calloused hands pulling her to stand flush against him, her head lolling to his shoulder. 

"Did Tony do good, doll?" At his words she moves staring heavy lidded at the other alpha in front of her. 

"He's so gorgeous," her hand moves up and strokes through Tony's hair. The mechanic moving to be pressed to the bare, flushed front of her. 

He knows it's that pretty little omega side of her that's fueling her purring and stroking of his person. That deeply buried maternal sense wanting to bring him into a nest and drape herself over him. And Tony can't bring it in himself to mind.

"You want him, don't you?" Steve's voice is husky against the shell of her ear, moving his attention to pressing kisses to the soft skin behind it. 

"Let me? Please, Stevie?" The breathless tone in her voice makes said mechanic rumble a soothing noise. 

This is hot and instinctual, but neither of them seem to mind. Tony thinks that somewhere down inside of him he needs this, this thought occurs later when she's underneath him with her fingers clenched in the sheets.

Maybe this is how they all can heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ


	9. Chapter 9

When Steve returns from a mission he finds them, his best girl had been busy while he was away and Tony must've been out at first because the Captain can't imagine he'd have let this happen.

The lavish rug in front of the flat screen was piled with all manner of soft things, blankets, couch cushions. Steve recognized one dark mass of fabric as the duvet off their bed.

She nested.

Tony's looking content in the middle of her little handiwork, spread with her across his lap. She's nuzzling at him, purring whilst her fingers comb through his hair. 

"Doll?" She turns immediately, up and bounding over to him like back when he'd come home from the factory. 

"It's my Stevie," her voice is muffled against his chest. The phrase dredged up from her little heat drunk mind because of course, she was possessive of him. 

Her petite frame shifted into his embrace easily, all soft caresses and little purrs. She hasn't had a heat like this since he was that skinny little punk who got kicked up and down Brooklyn. 

When she leans back he sees the damp spots on her shirt, an unbidden rumble leaving him whilst she shifted shyly. 

She's walking back for every step forward he takes, radiating every bit the alpha dominance her instincts craved. It's not long before she's falling back into her nest and he's kneeling to follow. 

"Tony, was she a good girl for you?" Steve's voice is husky, calloused fingers rucking her top over her chest.

"The best. Even took a nap after I drained her the first time." This news has Steve nuzzling her bond gland, causing the girl in his arms to giggle like they were still young and free.

He locks his lips around a dusky nipple, humming when Tony takes the other one. She's the picture of contentment like this, stroking at their hair and purring softly. It isn't until she moans that Steve pulls back to find the mechanic's fingers working her through the soft fabric of her panties. 

A really beautiful work of art, that was.

Canines itch under his tongue when she arches a certain way, pretty bonding gland on display. 

He decides he'll save that for later when he's got her in a bed like she deserves. For now he's content sucking her dry. And watching Tony fingerfuck his best girl really makes him want to sketch them just like that.

He knows she's done when she whines at his tugging, too blue gaze finding Tony giving soft licks over her swollen nipple. He kisses the one under his lips, pressing a trail of kisses over her breast.

She's turned to sleepy pets and soft humming, Tony's indulging her by shifting and laying his head on her tummy. Her fingers stroking through his hair in a lazy rhythm, Steve moves so she can rest her head on his arm. His smooth lips pressing chaste little kisses all along her temple and cheek. 

"Mine," comes her soft little sigh. And both alphas shift to look at each other, but only give lazy smiles because really, she is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments please! \\(◕ω◕✿)/


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows he's watching them, all dark blue eyes and heat.
> 
> But if Tony wasn't an alpha himself he'd be hard pressed to let the blonde fuck him seven ways til Sunday.

She's taking what she wants, the notion of her using him leaves this  deep heat in his spine because Tony's nothing if not a _generous_ man.

And if she wants to use him, than far be it from him to stop her.

She's straddling his hips in this too fancy armchair, his lab wasn't particularly the ideal place for this. But she has smelled his rut a mile off and she was going to let him take her if it had to be on the freezing tile of his floor. 

His hands frame her curvy hips, letting her set the pace because this was all too delicious with her whining and writhing prettily on his cock.

"Your Stevie's going to be pissed when he finds out I let you ride me in an armchair."

Her eyes flutter open, and fuck him if he doesn't swallow heavily at her sticky sweet smile. 

"But you're my Anthony, therefore," her breath gives out when he straightens to suck kisses onto her collarbone. "I get to do what I want, and Stevie can't punish me for it." 

"I don't think that's how it works, baby." 

She shivers at the sound of his voice, and what he'd give to have her tied and at his mercy. But he doesn't want to overstep these very careful boundaries the Captain had placed. 

That's when he senses it, the heat of the other alpha. She must be too far gone to sense him, but Tony's grip tightens on her hips.

And he knows Steve will get him later for it, but he can't help himself.

"Such a pretty little thing, riding me. You're my pretty girl, aren't you?" He leans back and watches her frantic little nod.

"Who's my pretty little baby?"

Call him a glutton for punishment, but watching Steve disassemble her piece by piece until she's whining with need, is his favorite treat.

"I am," and her smile is dazzling. Plush lips pressing a kiss to his in a delightful little press, he licks into her mouth like she's his most prized little candy. 

"Anthony, please."

"Don't you dare, Tony." And the girl in his arms gasps, walls fluttering around his length simply from the sound of Steve's voice.

"You're a bad girl, doll. You know Tony can't say no to you," and to be fair, she does look rather contrite.

So much so that Tony soothes her with a purr, lips pressing kisses along her neck before reaching the little soft spot behind her ear.

"Watch it, or I'll tie you to that chair while I take her on the floor." 

And Tony blesses that little omega instinct that has her wrapping her arms around his neck in a protective motion, his nose nuzzling her neck. 

The gentle rasp of Steve's hand smoothing across the chair meets his ears. Rough fingers brushing the exposed side of Tony's throat before sliding through the brunette's dark ringlets and yanking her back. 

A heady whine leaving her lips, torso circling in a figure eight against the mechanic in a need to remain centered.

The blond snaps his teeth near the delicate shell of her ear, causing a whimper. 

"When you're done with him, doll - I expect you on the floor in the bedroom," too blue eyes meet Tony's and the super soldier smiles. 

"I expect you in the armchair, waiting to be tied up. That clear?" 

\- Now, let it be said that Tony Stark would swallow his blood before he'd swallow his pride, but here he is. Roped to a heavily cushioned armchair, a ball gag forcing his lips apart. 

His eyes flutter shut at the pure sensory overload happening, the sound of Barnes begging grates against the last shred of his composure. 

Steve's got her pinned beneath him, both of them spread horizontal on the mattress so Tony can see the pretty, perfect lengths of both. She's got her hands tied and outstretched above her, the blond buried between her gorgeous thighs. 

The pure fact that she's strangled men with those leaves Tony reeling in a heady, drunk kind of way. 

"Why were you a bad girl?"

"Because I needed him."

Wrong answer pops into his head before she cries out, darkened chocolate gaze falling to the teeth marks on her skin. 

Tony thinks he might have a _fucking_ aneurism.

"Why were you a bad girl?"

"Because I fucked Tony." 

There's no bite this time, only the rasp of his tongue over the mark. 

"And why did you do it?"

"Because I love him, and he spoils me when you're gone."

She cries out again, and Tony hisses through the gag. His hands twisting against the bonds because she's right. He'd give her the whole world if she'd only ask. And he'd still be **fucking** the spoiled hell out of her if Steve was out.

When the cat's away...

"He gives me release over and over, Stevie. Makes me beg, calls me his princess," it's true. Every last word, and somewhere between those words and the way she ran her little tongue over sinfully red lips did Tony realize that she _was_ goading him. 

Steve digs blunt nails into her hips, begins licking into her punishingly: biting at her centre, sucking kisses against her, scraping perfect teeth against her clit. 

Her bound hands are shifting to wind into his hair, metal platelets whirring and clicking. It's a brief moment when she flashes a look at Tony that he realizes her little tease isn't up. Not yet.

Her lips part, and she breathes Tony's name on a whine of a song. Steve's snarling deep in his chest, rolling them so she's seated firmly on his face. Powerful thighs framing ruffled blond strands, there's a smile curling her lips as she sighs and moans, and generally makes Tony want to cry. 

Her cries soon form Steve's name, hips swiveling prettily. She shakes, trembles, tilts her head back and mews whilst she finds her release. 

"'m sorry, Stevie." She mumbles, and for a undefinable moment Tony thinks she means the armchair from earlier.

It's not until Steve shifts with a hum and catches her shaky frame, that Tony glimpses the wet spot underneath him. And the glistening wetness on his chin, snaking its way down his neck. 

"Don't be, doll. I got you all wound tight for a reason," he smiles. Crystalline gaze taking in her now flushed form, body sweat soaked and quivering.

Steve stands, padding over to Tony's "time out" chair. He unties him slowly, lazily. The smug bastard. The last piece of rope falling and Tony's on him. Tongue laving the pale expanse of his throat, removing traces of left over stickiness. The blond purrs, tilting his head up and scratching lightly at Tony's back.

He's gone in seconds, ducking past him and going in for the source. A moan leaving his lips unguarded at the pure, sweetness of her. 

"Let me-"

" _Anthony_ ," she coaxes prettily.

He's thrusting in hard, groaning when she hisses. Spread out beneath him like a work of art, pinned like a butterfly. His work roughened fingers gripping her hips, pumping in and out of her like a man dying of something only she could cure.

He's burying his face in her throat, snapping at her bonding gland. Narrowly missing, by an act of pure willpower. 

"Want you..."

"What do you want, Anthony? Tell me." 

He should lie, he doesn't. "I want you pumped full and begging. I want you covered in my bruises. I want you carrying my pups." 

Faintly he hears Steve groan.

She's looking at him like he's ripped the very stars down to land them at her feet. The world goes sideways as she flips him, riding him like he's her fucking property.

Hair falling in delicate, little ringlets, hands splayed out on his chest. Each one framing the glowing blue machinery in his chest. She leans down to kiss it sweetly, and he sits up to bite at her collarbone.

"You know what I want, Mr. Stark?" 

Complex chocolate eyes rolls back into his head at her words, nevertheless he responds. 

"What's that, baby?"

"I want you to fill me up."

He's snarling, dragging his nails down her back and his teeth down  her throat. And she's taking this all in stride, gathering up her dark tresses into an elegant, messy pile. Her hips circling, dark gaze alight with what was practically a twinkle as she put on a show for the super soldier over his shoulder.

It's two pumps of his hips before he's forcing her down to take it all. Fingers drumming her clit until she's whining, squeezing his knot while he empties into her. 

And damn him, she purrs - licking at his neck and petting her fingers through his hair.

The blond coming up behind her and mouthing at her skin, her hand smoothing down Tony's chest. Her frame wracked with a shiver as he spurts inside of her. 

"You like when he fills you up, don't you, doll?" 

"Mmhmm," it's relaxed against them both. Steve's chuckle light and soft, leaving Tony with a smile.

"Good girl."


End file.
